


Sweet Nothings

by JensenAckles13



Series: Definition of Insanity [2]
Category: Avengers, Frostiron - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, He is really really really sad, It's all angst, Loki Angst, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki is sad, M/M, So that makes Tony sad, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and a little bit of fluff, lots of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensenAckles13/pseuds/JensenAckles13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are mine.”<br/>Oh, it was such a simple statement. Loki doubted the mortal understood the sentiment behind his words…no, that wasn’t quite true, was it? He knew Anthony understood sentiment; what he didn’t understand was the…implications.<br/>Claiming Loki was his was also claiming everything that came with him, and Anthony Stark deserved so much more than that…than him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Nothings

“You are _mine_.”  
Oh, it was such a simple statement. Loki doubted the mortal understood the sentiment behind his words…no, that wasn’t quite true, was it? He knew Anthony understood sentiment; what he _didn’t_ understand was the…implications.  
Claiming Loki was his was also claiming everything that came with him, and Anthony Stark deserved so much more than that…than him.  

“I don’t…you don’t…” Loki trailed off, unsure as how to continue, yet knowing very well what he had planned to say.

“Understand?” Anthony asked. Loki simply nodded. “I do, though. That’s the thing- I understand that you’ve fucked up and that you have problems the size of Russia and that you hide your emotions behind that mask of yours and that you hate yourself and anyone who pretends to care, but I’m not pretending and I think you know that. I understand, Loki, _I do_ , and I still want you and everything you come with.  
Sure, our flaws put together rival the size of the entirety of South America, but they’re _our_ flaws now.  
Because you are mine and I’m yours.”  
It was as if a floodgate had been opened; everything he’d spent years trying to bury had found its way back up to the surface.  
So he let go.  
His façade cracked, and everything came spilling out.  
He closed his eyes, and as he did so opened a hurricane of everything he’d ever tried not to feel, emotion roiling low in his gut and building in his chest until he could barely breathe past the need to let it all _go_.  
He sobbed.  
Tears traced burning trails down his cheeks and his chest heaved, attempting to take in air yet he would allow no room for it.  
This had spent years in the making, building up until he felt he would burst yet he’d never allowed the simplest of luxuries…yet this mortal, this infuriating, genius mortal had somehow wormed his way into Loki’s heart and melted the ice he’d built around it.  
Loki clutched his fingers in Anthony’s shirt, his face buried in the mortal’s chest and Anthony simply held him.  
He didn’t whisper any falsified promises that anything would be okay; he didn’t insult Loki in that way. He simply held him as if he were the most important thing in the universe.  
Perhaps, to him, it was true.  
But oh, hope was a cruel thing designed only to help ease ones fear.  
Yet he could not help but feel it swell in his chest, warming parts of him he’d never thought could be thawed; after all, he was a creature of ice, borne it as if it were his own, claimed it.  
At the same time, however, Anthony was a creature of fire. He was all burning heat and passion.  
And when they clashed…oh, it had been breathtaking.  
A tidal wave of repercussions neither of them cared to stop; after all, when once puts together two creatures of opposite element…the consequences are nothing short of deadly.  
Yet what they had…they only way they would destruct would be together, ice freezing fire and fire melting ice.  
It would be a vicious cycle that neither of them could ignore, yet neither would want to.  
And somehow the thought made Loki sob even harder, breath coming in panting gasps as Anthony whispered sweet nothings; no lies, for they would not be appreciated and the mortal understood that, just as he understood so much more. Just as he understood _Loki_ , the God of Lies; the Silvertongued Liesmith.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got us,” Anthony whispered. “You’re mine. I’ll fix this.”

“Say it a-again.” Loki’s voice broke.  
So Anthony said it again, and again and again; a steady mantra promised to an unsteady god.  
As Loki’s tears slowed, so did Anthony’s words; no longer promises with his voice, but with his touches.  
They were hesitant at first, soft brushes of his knuckles against Loki’s cheek; fingertips following the dips in Loki’s spine.  
But then they grew more confident, therefore more comforting.  
They traveled low as they could reach with the god settled in his lap; they cupped Loki’s ass, moving higher to follow his spine up to his shoulders, kneading into the tense muscles there, stealing the tension away. They traveled gently along his throat, following the line of his jaw and tracing the curve of his lips, his nose, his eyes. The calloused pads of Anthony’s thumbs gently swiped away the tears drying below Loki’s eyes, perfectly rough hands cupping either side of his face before one traveled downward to tilt his face up with a fingertip under his jaw.  
Eyes still closed, Loki let him, lips slightly parting in an invitation Anthony gladly took.  
It was nothing more than a chaste kiss; a soft brush of lips, intimate and slow, yet it sent heat swirling throughout his body; the word _love_ flashing like a neon sign in his mind, demanding his attention, rendering him unable to speak, unable to _breathe_ at the raw emotion Anthony had pushed into it.  
 _Are you alright,_ it asked.  
 _You are mine,_ it promised.  
 _I love you,_ it screamed.  
They lay together then, not speaking, simply breathing and holding each other; Anthony’s embrace was strong- a silent promise that the mad inventor would fix everything, take whatever the god would give. Loki’s was desperate- as if he were a drowning man and Anthony were a breath of air.

“You are _mine,_ ” Anthony repeated softly.

“What would you have of me?” Loki asked, tilting his face up to look into Anthony’s eyes. What he saw there made his breath catch- it was all fire; burning need and fierce protection and raw, unadulterated _love_.

“ _Everything.”_

It was whispered, so quietly Loki barely heard it but oh, it was as if Anthony had shouted it.

“I love you,” Loki said, nuzzling his face into the crook of Anthony’s neck, inhaling; the mortal smelled faintly of motor oil, but even more so the smell of the earth after it rained.

“I love you too,” Anthony murmured, kissing the crown of Loki’s head. They were silent until Anthony broke it with a soft question, and Loki answered it as a promise, feeling no need to hesitate, only love so fierce it made his heart stutter.

“Mine?”

“Yours.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So.  
> I was rather proud of this, actually. Though it is, um, angsty. But hey, it's a lot of fun to write.  
> So lemme know what you think.  
> I rarely write from Loki's point of view, let alone something this angsty, so...yeah.  
> I'm a bit nervous as to how people will react.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
